


time doesn't love you anymore (like i love you)

by armoredsoftie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 90's Music, Anal Sex, Drunk Driving, Excessive Drinking, Hand Jobs, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Recreational Drug Use, Semi-Public Sex, Time Travel, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19338331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armoredsoftie/pseuds/armoredsoftie
Summary: Steve returned the Stones to their respective places, and it's time to go back home. But after an accident with the time traveling bracelet, he's stuck in 1993, where he tries to find the help of a young Tony Stark. After a few drinks in the most popular gay bar in town, things might take a different direction.





	time doesn't love you anymore (like i love you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jayjayverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayjayverse/gifts).



> Let's absolutely ignore the ending of Endgame! And also ignore that Steve can't get drunk. This was a tough one to finish, but I got there eventually. Enjoy!

“Shit.”

The bracelet is broken.

“Shit, fuck, _shit…_ ”

Steve kicks the trashcan and it ricochets against the alleyway wall, spilling garbage all over the floor. He doesn’t care. The only device capable of bringing him back to his time broke somewhere between escaping the Asgardian guards and landing on his side on this random alleyway. He tries fidgeting with the device, but the technology it’s just too complex and delicate for him to attempt a reparation, and he might accidently send himself a thousand years into the past, or end up in a time loop, or cease to exist at all. He has Pym particles to spare, but without the proper device to harness their power, the particles are useless.

He is stuck.

And he has no idea what year he is stuck on.

Steve knows he has to be at some point between the 90's and the early 2000's, judging by the cars that are passing by the street behind him. He swears under his breath.

Alright, not everything is lost. He has the nanosuit still with him, so he can use it to change into any clothes and blend in with the crowd. He has to hide the shield somehow. And he has to find someone who can help him get back home.

Luckily for him, the suit has a tracking device. He sticks it to the side of his shield and leaves it behind a dumpster, worried. He doesn't like leaving it behind, but it’s necessary if he plans on blending in.

Steve changes his clothes into a white button up and worn out jeans, and walks out of the alley, studying his surroundings.

The first thing to do is find out what year he’s stuck on. He walks up to a newspaper post and picks one up.

 

LOS ANGELES TIMES

Saturday, 14th of August, 1993

 

It’s 1993 then. How the hell did he end up in Los Angeles, though?

Shaking his head, he leaves the paper in its place and starts to walk. He wanders around the busy streets, thinking. His top priority is going back to the present, but he can’t if he doesn't find someone who can help him fix the time traveling device. It’s 1993, so Carol hasn’t returned to Earth yet. That means SHIELD doesn't know about alien technology, or at least not as advanced as the Kree. Bruce is a genius, but he’s still in college, and halfway across the country. Shuri hasn’t been born yet, or T’Challa for that matter. Hank Pym has already left SHIELD, Howard is already dead, and Tony…

 _Tony_.

Tony graduated at 21, and stepped up as CEO. He lives in the west coast. He must be around 23 years old. He’s no more than a young man, a grieving one still, probably, but still a genius one. He figured time travel once…

Could he do it again?

It’s his only option, Steve thinks. Even if Tony can’t figure out time travel, he only needs him to fix the bracelet. The portal that Bruce is operating in the present is what actually makes the time jumps possible, and he has Pym particles to spare, so he only needs to fix the… what had said Tony? Time travelling GPS? And he’ll be back to his own time.

Where Tony is dead.

That’s going to be a tough one. Steve hasn’t really come to terms with this loss yet. Like Natasha’s, it’s still raw, aching into his bones. During those five years after the Decimation, Steve tried as hard as he could to not be consumed by his grief. Natasha had struggled, and hard. And Steve tried to be there for her as much as he could, but the guilt and the weight of his own failure were chains to his ankles. He had learned how to deal with it and keep going, in theory, in the years that came after he woke up from the ice. Sam had been a huge support in that aspect. That’s why he started the support group for veterans’ survivors of the Decimation, because that’s what Sam would have done. And that had been what kept him going, kept him sane in the middle of all. Even if he wasn’t able to move on.

Seeing Tony again, even if it isn't the Tony he had known and loved, sounds like finding water in the middle of the desert. During his long journey returning the stones, he had forced himself to not reach out to Natasha or Tony at any point. Seeing them again would be just too painful. And he was there to restore the timelines, not create new disturbances.

This time is different. This time he has no other choice.

 

 

 

He “borrows” a car from a mall parking lot and starts to drive. His only lead is the Stark Industries facility near Malibu. He isn't very far away, just a few miles. If he has a chance to find Tony, that is a good place to start.

When he arrives, the facility is closing down for the night. It’s a huge industrial place, and Steve looks for the offices building. He parks the car in the employees parking lot, changes his outfit to the one of a random SI janitor. He steals the ID card from a guy in a suit who’s carrying four coffees into his hands.  An intern, Steve guesses. He passes security (just a guy by the door who doesn't even look twice at his ID) without much trouble and walks into the facility.

A strangely familiar laugh captures his attention.

“I’m telling you, Obie, the deal is sealed. I’ve had them eating from the palm of my hands.”

“Yes, Tony, but we also need-”

“No, no, none of that,” says a young Tony Stark, rolling his eyes. He’s young, very young. His hair is a little longer that Steve has ever seen him, curling around his eyes. He’s wearing glasses that frame his face adorably, his skin is smooth and his cheeks are a little red. “It’s Saturday night, we’re done for today.”

The men that’s walking with Tony -Obadiah Stane, Steve guesses-, looks tired and irritated, but complacent. He hangs on Tony’s every word, and abides by his wishes like a well-trained pet. Steve has seen a similar attitude around men like Tony or Nick Fury: greedy men would gladly lick their shoes just to get a small piece of the power they hold. Steve hates them. SHIELD, especially undercover HYDRA agents, was filled with them.

“Tony, boy, we still have to discuss the-”

“Nop,” Tony interrupts him, playful. “It’s past my bedtime already. See you on Monday!”

And with that, he’s walking out of the building. Stane sighs with frustration, but turns around and leaves the reception area. Alarmed, Steve tries to follow Tony in the most discreet way possible.

He sees a flaming red Ferrari roaring its engine in the parking lot. It’s a very nice car, but Steve has seen the marvels of the twenty first century, and he’s not impressed. His own Audi had probably more power than Tony’s entire collection, before it was crushed along with the Avengers’ compound.

As the Ferrari leaves the tarmac, Steve rushes to his car and tries to discreetly follow him. After a few turns, Tony takes the highway and goes in the direction to the city. Steve internally laughs. If only he had known, he would have saved the trip to Malibu.

Tony drives recklessly, but Steve is used to it. He’s not a very lawful driver himself. Natasha has given him endless shit about it. How it’s pointless to go faster if he’s not going to arrive to his destination by crashing the car somewhere. But Steve knows how to drive very well, his reflexes are infallible. He just doesn’t care about some stupid rules.

To pass the time, he turns on the radio. Michael Jacksons’ voice quickly fills the interior of the car and Steve smiles, singing along. Between the fast-moving lights of the highway, the thrill of the chase, and the contagious beat of  _ Beat It  _ he can’t help to start to dance a little bit on his seat. He lets go of one hand from the steering wheel, turns down the window and just enjoys the wind on his face.

“ _ Showin' how funky and strong is your fight, _ ” he sings. “ _ It doesn't matter who's wrong or right. Just beat it, beat it… _ ”

The song slowly fades away and the radio hosts’ voice starts answering calls from the audience. Steve turns down the volume and shakes his head, focusing on his objective again.

The Ferrari takes the next exit and Steve follows closely behind. He can almost see Tony shaking his head and singing along to some music that’s blasting through his car’s speakers, and he smiles.

When they enter the city, Steve tries to keep a little bit more of distance. He doesn’t think Tony has noticed him, but he wants to be careful. They enter a particularly colorful street, filled with bars and discos. Teenagers and young adults dressed in skimpy clothes and laughing out loud, sharing bottles of booze and passing a joint around. Some things don’t change, Steve thinks, no matter the decade.

After a few minutes, Tony pulls up next to what it looks like an industrial door, not marked by any signs of business, except for the bouncer at the door and the small line that’s formed next to it. Judging by the outfits of the hopeful attendees, and the clandestine vibe of the place, it’s a gay bar. Tony doesn’t seem to care about any photographer catching him entering such a place, because he walks directly to the bouncer, offers him several hundred dollars, and gives him a kiss on the cheek when he lets him pass. Laughing internally, Steve parks a couple of blocks away, and finds a way to sneak in from the back door.

Before he enters, he changes his clothes again. He’s a little bit shy about it, but he needs to blend in with the crowd. And he also has to catch Tony’s attention somehow. So, he changes into a see-through orange shirt and some washed out skinny jeans. He doesn’t know if that’s what the youth wore in 1993, but that’s something he’s seen young men wear in 2023 to the club. Not that he went out that much, but one more than one occasion he participated on fundraising events held by the LGBT local community to help victims of the Decimation, and they held the craziest parties.

Natasha used to love those events.  _ It feels like a warm welcome home _ , she used to say.

As soon as he enters, Steve is welcomed with loud music and flashing lights. The place is crowded, he estimates that around two hundred people are cramped between the dance floor, the bar, and the tables in the corner. It doesn’t look like a very exclusive place, but a very popular one. A slow smile forms at the corner of his lips, and he walks up to the bar.

_ Just one beer _ , he thinks.  _ Then I’ll go looking for Tony and focus on the mission.  _

The mission, he tries to remember between the fourth and fifth shot of tequila. The mission, he reminds himself, when a very attractive man with very dark skin and even darker eyes sits beside him and starts to flirt. What was his mission again, he struggles to focus on while dancing with the attractive man that vaguely reminds him of Sam.

“You’re very cute, Steve,” says the man. When did he give him his name? “You’re very hot.”

In the middle of the dancing crowd, sweaty bodies touching him, loud music that synchronizes with his heartbeat, the glazing smoke and the faint smell of sex, Steve feels like time isn’t a real concept. The man kisses him, and he tastes like vodka and lime, but Steve is losing himself.

He had something to do, someone to find.

The man, Arnie was maybe his name? He’s leading him to the bathrooms. Steve knows what he wants. He can’t give him that.

“I came here to find someone,” mutters Steve.

“What?” breathes Arnie into his ear. Steve detaches himself from him, and shakes his head. He leaves him by the men’s bathroom door.

Tony, he suddenly remembers, when he sees the man by the tables. He’s sitting surrounded by men and women in varying states of intoxication. He’s very concentrated on something on the table, moving something around with his credit card…

Oh.

Steve looks away, extremely ashamed. Of course, he knows that Tony used to do drugs, even some very strong ones in his wildest years. Steve himself had tried smoking weed when Bruce offered, but with little success. He had the theory that, like alcohol, the stronger stuff would actually work on him, but he had never dared to test that theory.

He looks back and Tony is now rubbing his nose, laughing. His eyes lazily wander through the entire place, until they land on Steve, who’s still watching him. Unable to help himself, Steve stares. Tony stares back, and his smile fades.

Feeling his heartbeat race like a million miles per hour, Steve tries returning to the dance floor and losing himself in the crowd.

This was a bad idea. A terrible one, really. Tony is dead, he’s  _ dead _ . He’s not coming back. And Steve is so drunk. He’s fucking dead.

And he’s behind him.

“Hey there,” says Tony, in what he probably thinks is a very seductive voice. Steve turns around.

Fuck, he’s gorgeous.

He lost his suit jacket, and his red button up has the first three buttons opened. His sleeves are curled up to his elbows. His hair is sweaty and unruly. His forehead and neck are shiny with sweat. His pupils are blown wide open, and his full lips are parted just slightly.

To Steve, he’s irresistible.

Tony takes his expression as an invitation and walks closer to him, almost chest to chest. He’s shorter than him, and when he looks up to Steve with those gorgeous eyes, the same eyes he’s had his whole life, he can’t resist him.

They dance.

Tony knows how to do it very well. Basically, because he doesn’t give a shit about what anyone thinks. Steve has always needed a couple of drinks on him before he was able to let himself loose. And that night, lost in a stolen moment in time, with his hands low around Tony’s hips, his breath on his neck, and the back and forth of their bodies at the beat of the music, he’s free.

Just one night, he thinks, as Tony nose bumps with his. Just this one.

And he closes the distance between them, kissing him.

This is his curse now. He has come to terms with the fact that Tony would never be his. He was married, he had a kid. He's dead.

But not that night. Tony is very much alive, sucking small, hungry kisses in the side of Steve’s neck, pressing himself against his body, desperate. Steve is giving him everything he wants. It doesn’t matter. All of this will be gone by the morning. Just memories in the wind.

The song changes to something with quicker pace, and Tony grabs him by the hair. Steve hisses, pleased, and bites his lips in response. Tony laughs, completely blissed, and turns around, pressing his ass against Steve’s growing erection. He keeps an arm around Steve’s neck and turns his head to the side to keep kissing him, while Steve holds his hips in place, seeking for more friction.

They hide in one of the bathroom stalls, and Tony goes on his knees in front of him. Feeling like this might be too much for him at the moment, Steve raises him from the ground but not without pressing him into the stall door and burying a hand inside Tony’s pants. He mouths his neck and his collarbones insistently while stroking Tony’s cock up and down, up and down, spitting into his hand and then again up and down, again and again until Tony is coming on his hand with a soft gasp of his lips and holding on to Steve’s shoulders for dear life.

“Let me return the favor,” he purrs into Steve’s ear.

“I’d love that,” whispers back Steve, drunk and blind with who knows what at this point, “but maybe let’s go somewhere more private?”

Tony smiles at him, pleased and young and beautiful, and kisses him again.

“My place. Let’s go.”

The drive back to Malibu is extremely dangerous. They drive on the Ferrari, Tony on the wheel, and Steve very closely at his side, turning the wheel sharply every time it looks like Tony is going to crash. When they enter the mansion, Steve has very few seconds to appreciate the place before Tony is dragging him to his room and pushing him into his gigantic bed. Then, he straddles him and looks down at him with a wicked smile.

“I want to ride you, mystery man,” says Tony, and Steve swears under his breath.

They only get rid of Tony’s pants, before he’s sitting on his dick, head turned back exposing his long neck, shirt open all the way. Steve marvels at the view, gripping Tony’s thighs with trembling fingers while the young man jumps up and down insistently on his cock. They quickly find a comfortable rhythm, and it’s not very long before Steve’s gasping under his breath. Tony, sensing how close he’s to the edge, speeds up his movements with a wicked smile.

He bends down, kisses Steve into madness, and whispers to his ear.

“Come, baby,” he purrs, “come for me, stranger.”

A whole-body tremble shakes Steve as he spills himself inside Tony, and he moans loudly with his eyes closed, unable to help himself. His mind is just white noise, and everything is perfect in the universe.

He’s still riding the high of his orgasm when he hears Tony gasp. Steve opens his eyes to Tony stroking himself until he comes, smearing his release all over Steve’s shirt.

Shit.

That’s his nanobot suit.

Unable to help himself, Steve laughs. Startled, Tony laughs with him. He keeps laughing as he climbs down from Steve and throws himself besides him on the bed.

“Did you enjoy yourself, Mystery man?”  

Steve sighs, happy and ridiculed, and nods.

“You’re something else, aren’t ya…” he whispers, and Tony smiles at him.

After, Steve watches him sleep. It’s time, he thinks. Time to go back.

At some point during the drive to the mansion, he remembered his spare bracelet, hidden inside the nanosuit. Sam had insisted on it, and Steve feels really stupid about this whole thing now. But it was worth it.

He’ll have to recover his shield before anyone takes it. He’ll have to wash his nanosuit too. Is it even washable?

For now, he saves this. This moment is his. Not Tony’s, the Tony he knows had a life full of moments like this one. He didn’t have to steal them from the universe.

For now, Steve is happy. He curls besides Tony’s sleeping form, and closes his eyes.


End file.
